Service for One
by FireCracker7
Summary: Bruce and Dick go clubbing. Dick dances with a stranger, and Bruce is propositioned. Then things get better.


author: FireCracker

(Italic copy bordered by_underscore_)

Archive? You'd better.

Warnings: None specific, m/m/m. A surprise guest!

Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Dick Grayson

Mixture of Canon, mostly recent. Dickie is around 27, Brucie 36. I like it like that. In this story the boys go clubbing. But things get a little too hot...

Service For One

"I don't know why I let you talk me into this."

Dick laughed, watching his lover get dressed. He'd finally convinced Bruce to take a night off and 'cut loose.'

"It isn't that bad, Bruce. Stop complaining. You can whine to your heart's content later."

"I don't whine."

Dick sat on the edge of their huge bed. Amused, he watched the broad back ripple and flex into a snug shirt of red satin. He fought the urge to lick his lips subconsciously. Wide hands tucked the fabric into black leather pants hugging every curve.

Dick shook his head in open admiration. Those pants were positively..._obscene._

"And why red? You know I don't like loud colors."

A sigh. "Dark features look great with primary hues."

Bruce turned around, scowling. "I'll take your word for it."

Dick pulled his boots on. "Are you wearing briefs under there?"

A flush from the other man. "Of course I am! What kind of question is that?"

Dick grinned. "Oh, nothing. Just wondering-"

Bruce patted himself. "I knew it. These things are too tight!"

"No, they're perfect. Stop being so self conscious, will you?" Dick paused, thinking.

Razor blue eyes narrowed. "I look like a hustler, right?"

"Hell no, you're pastry." Dick smirked, standing. He pecked Bruce on the nose.

"Hmm." Bruce pulled him close. "I like you in blue, pretty boy. Goes with your eyes."

Dick curled into the embrace. "Well I wasn't sure about this cut of silk shirt-"

"Designer looks great on you. But I'm more interested in the filling."

"Oh" a kiss. "Bruce-"

"Mmm." Lips smothered speech. Wide palms massaged a perfect ass, grinding groins together.

Dick pulled up for air, eyes cloudy. "Better stop that, big guy. Unless you plan on having one hell of a cleaning bill."

Bruce appraised his lover openly. "Did you paint those pants on? If it weren't for the pleats, I'd swear-"

Dick gave his most devilish smile, strutting around the bedroom. "Come on, don't get all conservative on me now. Besides, everyone dresses edgy at the Eqqus-"

"So what? Does _everything _have to show?!"

Dick shrugged, taking a sip of scotch from a decanter. "Well, I'll admit that ass of yours is illegal."

Bruce flushed. "Dick-"

Nimble fingers swished a shot glass. "Bruce, you could wear most anything and it wouldn't matter. Slacks, jeans, or that...leather you have on."

"You say one more word and I'm changing into my black Armani."

Dick pointed at him. "Don't even think it."

"Why not? I wouldn't be overdressed."

"No, but you'll look like a hitman or bodyguard."

Bruce gave a shaded smile. "That appeals to me for some reason. It's a rare night that crime slows down in Gotham. There may be a fight, you never know."

Dick eyed him. "We're going out to have fun and relax. There's not going to be any fight!"

"Sometimes things happen, Dick."

The younger man sighed, rubbing cable thick arms. "I worry about you."

Blue eyes narrowed in confusion. "Why?"

"You can't be the Bat all the time, Bruce. You're getting too consumed, too obsessed. That whole episode with Sticks last week-"

"I don't want to talk about that!" Bruce moved away, suddenly angry.

"He's in critical condition." Dick said quietly. "There's at least a thirty percent chance he won't make it. Are you prepared to deal with that if it happens?"

The large man moved like a rolling thunderclap, pacing. "Violence is necessary with what we do, Dick. I taught you that!"

"I know. But that stunt you pulled was over the top, even for you."

"Did I let him fall from the building? So what if he slipped and fell down the elevator shaft. No one can connect that accident with Batman."

"No one except three witnesses that saw a 'black bat shape' hurl Sticks from eight stories up. Even Gordon is starting to fear you."

"You talk like I'm a menace. All this compassion for a multiple rapist?!"

Dick was grim, arms folded. "I don't give a rat's ass about Sticks. But I _do _care about what's happening to you. It's been bad since Jason died. One day I'm afraid you won't make it back from the edge. Even Tim is worried-"

"Can we talk about this later, Dick? This is supposed to be a festive night out."

A sigh, hands up. "All right, truce. I'm sorry. But it's something that's been on my mind for awhile now."

Bruce shook his head as if to clear it. "I know, I know...sometimes the rage is hard to control."

Dick embraced him gently. "Are you still talking with Dr. Henderson?"

"I'm-" the big body tightened with resistance. "Drop it, please? For tonight?"

Dick managed a smile, thumbing perfect cheekbones. "I love you."

"I know." the deep voice was husky. "I'm not losing it, I swear."

Their lips touched in a tender kiss. Dick pulled up, considering.

"On another topic, there's something I'd like to do to you."

Bruce grinned hugely. "Do tell-"

"Not that." Dick almost laughed. "At least not yet. I want to do something about your hair-"

"What's wrong with it?!"

"Stop pasting it down. Let it flow a bit."

"How?"

Smiling, Dick headed to the door. "I'll be back in a minute."

()

Dick almost felt like a kid again. He stood behind Bruce who was seated in an overstuffed chair.

"Now dahling...I veel transform you-"

Bruce winced as strong fingers massaged his scalp. "As long as I don't have to suffer through your lisp."

"Oh no, sugarplum." Dick squealed, batting his eyes in an affected manner. "When I'm done with you, all the _boyzz_ will positively _scream!"_

"Ugh!"

"Gorgeous roots, honey." Dick carried on, enjoying himself. "Now for a little Gen-ay-say-kwah..."

"You call that French?"

A snicker. "Only the bastardized version."

"What are you doing to me?"

"A little lift. Just giving you a bit of a spike up top and volume."

"I smell orange blossoms-"

"Hairgel. Has good hold."

Bruce tried to turn his head. "Can I at least look in a mirror?"

Loose strands were pulled down in layers. "Not until I'm done. A little over the eyes. Very seductive."

"Ah, I see. You want me to get another date."

"Don't be ridiculous, Bruce."

"I'm not the one acting like a Queen on crack."

Dick nodded in approval. "Excellent. Yes...I think that will do."

"What are you doing?" in exasperation, Bruce stalked over to a mirror. His jaws fell in surprise.

Dick held him from behind, admiring. "Like it?"

Blazing blues blinked over chiseled features. "Is that me? I look like, like..."

"A model for Playgirl magazine."

Bruce curled a lip. "Not exactly my style."

"It is. You just aren't used to it." Dick tugged at his arm. "Hopefully this will start a trend."

Bruce sighed as he was dragged out. "Not smelling like a fruit garden."

()

They arrived at the Eqqus about an hour later. It was a scene of bright neon and garish chrome, accented by tropical trees and stone landscaping. Men of all ages and descriptions stood in line waiting to get in. Others clustered in groups, jabbering and drinking in their finery. It was a place to see and be seen.

Dick leaned against leather seating. "Don't you think showing up in a red limo is a bit much, Bruce?"

The big man shrugged. "How do you figure? Look at the cars here. Jags, Porsches, Benzes...I even saw a Rolls Silver in the parking lot."

"You're kidding. Must be a collector here." Dick gazed out tinted glass, letting out a whistle. "Wow. Looks like the joint is live tonight."

"Saturday. Well, let's go."

()

Their appearance was anything but inconspicuous. After leaving instructions with the driver, Bruce and Dick stepped out and headed up the walkway. Eyes followed their every move. Murmurs and stares followed their wake from more than a few speculative admirers. Obvious leers left no room for the imagination.

Dick edged alongside his partner. "Sheesh. Meat rack night."

Bruce stopped near a gate. "Where's the line? There's so many people here I can't tell-"

"Hey!"

Both men turned. A bulky redheaded man with a ponytail grinned. "You two aren't regulars." Bright cufflinks set off his tailored gray suit.

"It's been awhile." Dick responded, watching another crowd form nearby. A rangy man with a sandy moustache winked in his direction mouthing 'cutie'.

Dick blinked in response before turning back to Bruce.

"I think we go the other way."

"Nah." the redhead broke in. "Bunch of posers in that line. You guys look classy. I was waiting for a friend but he hasn't arrived yet. Would you gentlemen care for some company in the meantime? I know the manager."

Bruce nodded. "Thank you, ah-"

"Harold Gordy. Long time member here. And you two are?"

Bruce shook his hand. "Thomas Malone. Pleased to meet you."

Dick reached out also. "Dick Artelli. Think you can slide us in a side door?"

Harold laughed, a rich deep sound. "Hell yeah. Come on, before these guys bring the butter."

()

Harold was a man of his word. Flashing a membership card got them past the mob outside, through the cafe and into the main dance floor area. Couples were everywhere taking advantage of high energy music.

"Which way?!" Dick yelled to be heard.

"Over there!!" Harold cupped his hands to his ears.

"What about my hair?!" Bruce bellowed, patting his head.

Dick rolled his eyes. "Not hair, there!"

"Who's where?!" Harold hollered, frowning. "If you have another friend, I can find him a seat."

"I prefer modern jazz!" Bruce indicated the nearby band, not really hearing. "Some of this new wave is ridiculous."

"Yeah, the food is here is delicious!!" Harold shouted again.

"What's ridiculous is this conversation!!" Dick was nearly hoarse over the music. He pointed at some secluded booths shaded by plants.

"We can't even hear ourselves think. It may be quieter over there!"

Harold shrugged. "I think the cover charge here is pretty fair, myself."

"What?!"

Bruce threw his hands up in exasperation. "Gentlemen, this way!" he all but shoved his companions to the booths.

()

The booth they selected was quite large, more than accomodating for three ample sized men. It was a corner configuration with the open end allowing a clear view of the dance area.

Dick settled back into plush green leather. "Nice. The renovations really look great."

Harold nodded, removing his suit coat. "New management. They wanted more of a clean contemporary look."

Bruce observed their guest casually. "So what line of work are you in?"

"I sell greeting cards."

Dick coughed. Even Bruce raised a dark brow in curiosity.

Harold laughed. "I get a lot of that. No, seriously!"

"What kind of greeting cards?" Dick wanted to know. "Anything specific?"

Sharp gray eyes sparked. "Buisness communications!" he laughed at a private joke.

Bruce and Dick looked at each other.

Harold chuckled. "Let me order you something to drink. Sometimes conversation flows a little better with some lubricant, eh?"

Bruce observed the crowd. "Curious choice of words in a place like this."

"Good point." thick fingers snapped for a waiter. "The house wine is great here-"

"I'll take a scotch on ice." Dick replied.

"Brandy for me." Bruce added.

Harold nodded in satisfaction. "Done."

()

The trio consumed several drinks before eating heartily. Harold order veal parmesan with scungelli. Bruce devoured his strip steak platter while Dick enjoyed a rack of ribs. The chatty conversation covered many topics from politics to sports and religion.

Bruce admitted to himself it felt good to 'let loose' a little. The responsiblilities of the Bat could be cumbersome at times, overwhelming and never ending. Harold ordered a steady flow of drinks and he started to feel quite mellow.

He wasn't alone. Dick had a fine blush about his cheeks, a strong indicator of his happy mood. Hot eyes flashed hidden signals to his partner over dinner.

Bruce quirked a small smile in response. It occured to him a quickie in the bathroom stall might not be a bad idea.

Harold laughed, observing. "You guys gonna make goo goo eyes all night? The joint's jumping."

Dick smirked at him. "And?"

"Heh...the dance floor. Are you smooth?"

Dick glanced at a curious Bruce. "As silk."

"You okay with it, Tom?" Harold wanted to know. "If you guys are tight, I don't wanna-"

Bruce shrugged. "No problem. Besides, I need to make a pit stop. Just be sure to bring him back in decent condition, okay?"

Harold grinned widely. "You got it."

()

They watched Bruce head across the crowded dance floor to the restrooms. Dick edged up from the table to dance but paused. His new friend was staring quite pointedly at his partner. A pink tongue poked slightly as he licked his upper lip.

Dick found it oddly amusing. "You like looking at Tom?"

Harold flushed, pulling at his shirt collar. "Well, don't take this the wrong way, but..."

"But what?"

"Your friend has a...fabulous ass."

Dick barely suppressed a smile. "I agree. He rarely wears leather because he's self conscious about it."

Harold pulled Dick up to dance. "Whatever the hell for? Between that ass and those shoulders...he ever play football?"

"No, but he was a four sport athlete in school. Fitness fanatic, you know?"

Harold hooked an arm around Dick, moving out into space. "You ain't shabby in that department either. Totally monogamous, or-"

"Well, we're working on it. Issues, you know? But we want it to be permanent."

Those gray eyes sparkled as Harold swept Dick onto the dance floor. "Hmm...gives me hope! I like a challenge."

"You're pretty bold."

"Where I come from you go after what you want."

Dick smiled as they swayed to the beat. "Good philosophy."

()

Bruce considered himself fairly paranoid, with good reason. Sharp instincts honed over the years rarely let him down in any situation. So when three men followed him in a rush he became suspicious.

One was burly, around his height with thick arms and barrel chested. The second resembled Jean-Paul with keen black eyes. The third man was a biker type, rough looking with stubble. His russet hair was pulled into a ponytail.

Bruce lifted an eyebrow as the group practically trailed him into the washroom area. Men stood everywhere, talking and exchanging phone numbers or buisness cards. A few were kissing. Mirrors and chrome bounced light from polished marble flooring, creating a glitzy atmosphere. Attendants stood nearby with handtowels and fancy soaps. There was even a separate shower stall.

Bruce sighed, weaving through the menagerie. He took a left turn into the next hallway and darted into a stall.

()

Dick had to admit, there was comfort in his snuggable new friend. The big man practically wrapped him like a blanket as they danced. Harold likewise seemed to enjoy the contact, turning his face against Dick's cheek.

The redhead practically purred. "I'll be your sugarbear any day, Dick. I may not be a poster boy for playgirl, but I'd treat you well."

Dick felt warm. Harold wasn't bad looking at all, despite carrying some extra poundage. The naturally red hair was striking, nearly orange in tone.

"Thank you." he said sincerely. "But right now, Tom is my main project."

"I can see why. But don't cut out other possibilities, though. Mind if I ask you some personal stuff?"

"Depends on how personal you mean."

"Are you and Tom in love?"

Dick blinked in surprise. "Ah, you really go for it."

"Told you, it's my nature."

"There's love..."

A red brow lifted. "Oh oh. I sense a _'but'."_

Dick paused before answering. "Let's just say he doesn't vocalize it. But the feeling is definitely mutual."

Harold turned him slowly during the next music number. "So who's daddy?"

Dick leaned back and stared. "It's not like that."

"Don't kid me, Dick. Is Tom a top or bottom?"

The younger man flushed. "He's...versatile. I'll leave it at that!"

"Heh. Based on his looks, I'd say a top. But you can't really tell these days."

Dick quirked a lip. "And I suppose I look like a 'bottom'?"

Harold laughed gently. "Not necessarily. I like you. Both of you. Maybe after things filter out here we can chase another party."

"But this place doesn't close until four a.m."

A sly wink. "Now you're catching on."

()

Bruce had barely left his stall when the biker intercepted him. "Sup, big man? Got a treat tonight?" he smiled with huge white teeth.

"Ah-"

"Name's Luke. These here are my buddies, Roo and Jerry. We saw you with your friends earlier."

Bruce moved in line to get to the sinks. "Nice to meet you gentlemen, but I'm-"

The burly man beside Luke appraised Bruce openly, staring up and down. "Holy damn. You got 'em lined up, boy?"

Bruce was somewhat annoyed, staring in return. "You're Roo, I take it."

Thick fingers pulled at a handlbar mustache. "Yeah. How'd you guess?"

"I have a good sense for people. The name fits."

A slender hand landed on his shoulder next. In surprise he turned to the Jean-Paul lookalike.

"What's your name, handsome? You'll have to forgive my friends. Sometimes their manners leave much to be desired."

"Hey, I got class!" Luke jabbed a thumb at his own chest. "Stop talkin' for me, Jerry. Besides, I found him first!"

Roo rubbed a finger over his lower lip, observing Bruce again. "Bet he gives a hell of a ride..."

"Quit it, Roo!" Luke snapped again. "Show some cool. The man ain't even told us his name."

"The name's Tom." Bruce flipped. "And soon to be gone. Now if you'll excuse me-"

"I like that." Jerry purred. He didn't remove his hand. Bruce stared at his shoulder.

"Something?"

"You remind me of a...friend of mine."

"Good thoughts, I hope."

"It's complex. And not open for discussion."

"Well then." Roo stepped up, smiling. "Let's discuss more interesting topics over drinks."

Bruce leaned over a sink, washing his hands. "I'm already with company, as all of you know."

Jerry followed his motion with those intense black eyes. Long fingers traced a shoulder ripple under red satin.

"I have to say." he breathed. "I find you incredibly attractive."

Bruce half turned. "Thank you. But I have to get back to my friends."

"I'd like to call you sometime, Tom."

"Hey!" Luke tapped his buddy. "He was talkin' to me first."

"Bullshit." Roo barked. "What would he want with your scrawny ass? Now me, I can handle all that-"

"I'll leave while you three argue." Bruce was fed up, already moving. The restroom was eerily quiet. They were the center of attention, drawing snickers and leers. Someone yelled _"Maneater!!"_ in the background. A bearded man licked the air at Bruce. Steel blue eyes narrowed to slits in response.

Still another anonymous voice shouted, "Give a dog some bone_! Ride me baby, ride meeeee!!!"_

Bruce shook his head in utter disbelief. __Freaking loony bin.__

As he turned to go, he saw a reflection in one of the side mirrors. Another admirer, elegantly dressed with shockingly white hair watched with intense curiosity. Sea green eyes held his own steadily.

Bruce finally looked away, speeding towards the nearest exit. Roo, Jerry and Luke were arguing about who had 'first dibs'. He was all but forgotten in their silly squabble. Meanwhile, his white haired admirer slipped quietly through the crowd.

Bruce nearly made it to the exit sign when hands grabbed both his ass cheeks.

And all hell broke loose.

()

Dick was growing concerned."I hope Tom isn't sick or something. He's been gone a long time."

Harold peered off into the distance over Dick's shoulder. "I dunno. Sometimes people get caught up in there, if you know what I mean."

"No way. Tom's not into casual sex-"

"You'd be surprised, kid. Even the best of 'em get tempted."

"Not _my_ man." Dick insisted, dancing Harold back towards their table. "Let's sit down. I'm getting hungry again."

Harold nodded, looking into his eyes. "So am I, but not for food. Damn, you're pretty. "

Dick smiled, sliding back into their booth. "Let's order some appetizers in the meantime."

A chuckle. "You're smooth, I give ya that. Got that big horse under lock and key, eh? Must be nice."

"It is."

"Sharing is good." Harold said with meaning.

"I'm selfish, and-" Dick paused, frowning.

"What?"

"Over there. What's going on across from the band? Looks like people are running-"

Harold whistled, turning to see. "Same old crap. Seen it a hundred times."

Dick gawked, eyes wide. "What the hell?!"

A small man came flying between double doors, careening off the dance floor. His glasses were cracked. Patrons everywhere scattered as more bodies crashed out, colliding with displays . Beefy men in black suits raced into the melee, disappearing through the doors. The bizarre scene continued when one of the 'house security' likewise was ejected, flying out on his ear. His suit was torn as he took a long slide over polished tile. People were pushing and shoving everywhere as the music blared on under multicolored lights.

Harold took off his suitcoat and rolled up his sleeves. "Time to crack some skulls, Dick. I think Tom's in that mess somewhere."

"I think you're right." Dick agreed, also standing. He noted that despite extra poundage, Harold was mostly solid muscle under his jacket.

The scene by the band was near chaos. Tattered men were still falling everywhere, breaking up dancing couples who tripped over bodies. A tall, thin man was dragged out by security in handcuffs. Two more were carried out, one man in a headlock. Others bolted into the crowd and disappeared.

Dick grinned. _Well Bruce did say there might be a fight._

"Let's move, kid."

"Right. Wait! Look-"

Three haggard security men pulled Bruce through the doors. Cable thick arms were pinned as he shouted something into the din. His shirt was open and ripped, hanging off a shoulder. Hair loaded with gel flopped into his eyes.

People cleared a space around them, not wanting to be involved. They went to the bar or returned to the dance floor. Bruce was still yelling as Harold and Dick approached.

"I didn't even start the fight!"

"Hey, let him go!" Harold threatened. "Creeps. It takes three of ya to hold him?"

"Stay out of this, mister. Move aside." one of the bouncers warned. He had a black eye.

Dick snorted. "Where are you taking him?"

"Into our security office. He a friend of yours?"

"Yes, but-"

"We'll have to file charges for assault-"

"You can't do that!" Dick stood in the way, furious.

Bruce nodded. "I was jumped. There were plenty of witnesses! Why don't you question-"

"Don't tell us our jobs. And you two back off!" the first bouncer snarled. He was thin and hawkfaced.

Harold moved to fight. "Buncha candy asses. I know about your kangaroo court in the back!!"

"Gentlemen."

Everyone quieted. Bruce stared in shock and recognition. It was the elegantly dressed admirer he'd seen earlier. The man moved with an easy grace, carrying an air of authority.

"Release this man."

The first bouncer blubbered. "But , he-"

"Release him, I said! I saw the entire incident."

The third bouncer snorted, glaring at Bruce. He was a heavyset thug with an oily nose.

."But he caused the disruption, sir. The others-"

"Deserved what they got." A manicured hand waved him off. "Girard, let him go. But contain as many of the attackers as you can."

The hawkface piped up next. "They're likely scattered, sir."

"Unscatter them. You know the drill. I won't have paying guests in my club harassed."

Dick gave a triumphant look as the security people grumbled and left. The club owner waited for them to be out of earshot.

Harold put a finger up in their direction. "So much for that." He looked Bruce over. "Jeezus, dude. They were really goin' for it, huh?"

Bruce managed a smirk. "They went, but it didn't go."

Tomlinson stepped forward and extended a hand. "Accept my apologies, please. Those cretins will be caught and dealt with. Do you wish to press charges?"

Dick watched his lover closely, trying to read his eyes. Bruce glanced at him briefly before answering, running a hand through his hair.

"It's been a long night. I for one just want to get cleaned up and go home."

Sea green eyes were hooded. "I understand completely...Mr. Wayne."

Bruce was startled, freezing on the spot. "What?"

Gleaming teeth smiled. "And your Mr. Grayson, I believe." he indicated a likewise shocked Dick.

Harold blinked, stammering. "Huh. You mean...the billionare?" he slapped a hand to his head. "Oh,_ hell!"_

The owner continued. "I know the need for discretion, especially in awkward social situations. Shall this matter be forgotten?"

Bruce nodded with a sigh. "Yes, thank you."

Dick found his voice. "How did you know who we are?"

The man laughed in disbelief. "I could say the obvious, your looks. But no...I was touring the technological hardware convention in Chicago last year."

"The Versex Fair." Bruce remembered succintly. "But we never met."

"No, but I saw you there. Circumstance prevented me from introducing myself."

"Excuse me, but you don't seem the type to be interested in tecchy toys and crack weaponry."

A dark brow lifted in amusement. "And a wealthy playboy is?"

Bruce had to smile at that. "Touche'."

A velvet soft hand clasped his shoulder. "All of you come to my private suite. You must be my guests for the evening."

Dick moved protectively beside Bruce. "I really think we should call it a night."

Bruce nodded ruefully in agreement. "I'm sorry, but not tonight. Some other time, perhaps?"

Jade eyes glittered strangely. "Of course. But before you leave, please accept a bottle of my best Burgundy at the bar. Consider it an official apology."

Harold snickered. "That ain't all you want 'on the house.' "

Tomlinson lifted an eyebrow at him. "Crude as always, Harold. Why do I put up with you?"

"Must be the love."

"You two know each other?" Bruce watched them curiously.

"Yes, long term associates." Tomlinson answered. He smiled widely.

"Here, take this. I think you'll find we have a great deal in common, Mr. Wayne." silken fingers placed a buisness card against a broad palm. As Bruce closed his hand over it, Tomlinson traced a thumb over his wrist.

Dick coughed. "Yes, well. We thank you for the hospitality, but as we said-"

The older man glanced at him serenely before resuming eye contact with Bruce. "You have to leave. I know. Still, contact me at your earliest convenience. Our association could prove most successful and...pleasant."

"Down, frenchie." Harold teased.

"I despise that name as well you know." Tomlinson curled his lip.

"You're too sensitve, Ray. Now quit sparking. Me and my buddies here have to go."

Dick rubbed Bruce on the bicep possessively. "We appreciate your offer of friendship." Blue eyes flared like nova.

Ray nodded in amusement as he turned to leave. "You are very lovely, Mr. Grayson. Enjoy yourself this fine evening."

"Good night." Bruce said succinctly.

The three men watched Tomlinson blend into the club crowd. Moments later he was gone.

()

They retrieved their coats from the booth. Dick found himself irritated by Harold's smugness.

"What's so damn funny? You've been laughing since we came over here."

"I'd like to know myself." Bruce slipped his leather jacket over the tattered shirt.

Harold pointed at the big man. "Poor Ray. He wants you on a platter of roses. Better still, tied up and oiled down."

Razor blue eyes blinked. "Say what?"

The thick redhead buttoned his suitcoat. "Oh yeah. He's heavy into fetish and bondage."

"You're kidding." Dick was surprised. "He seemed kind of conservative."

"Don't let the fancy duds fool ya, kid. He's a bottom, though. Straight up."

Dick's eyes narrowed at his lover. "I can't take you anywhere."

"What did _I_ do?!" Bruce threw his hands up. "It was your idea to come out tonight-"

"You get attacked in the restroom, and hit on by the club owner. Did I leave anything out?"

"Yes. Your brain! Look at me, will you?! I'm a complete mess!"

Harold couldn't resist, watching their sparks. "Yeah, but such a sexy mess."

They both glared at him.

Wide hands clapped two sets of shoulders. "Come on, let's go get that bottle."

()

They stood outside the club near the parking lot. Men were still clustered or paired off in groups, checking each other out. Some had brought drunken friends into the cool air to clear their heads. Conversation flowed everywhere.

Bruce leaned against a lightpost, a sigh heavy on his lips. Dick held the bottle of burgundy, concerned.

"Hey. You alright, Bruce?"

"Just exhausted."

"I'll call you guys a cab, Bruce." Harold offered.

"Thanks. We have a rented limo. Just have to page-" broad fingers fumbled in his coat.

"Bruce, just relax. I'll do it." Dick flipped his cell.

Harold glanced behind them. "What the hell?"

A small, slightly bald man with cracked glasses stormed their way. His clothing was shredded in several places. One sleeve to his suit was missing.

Dick and Bruce likewise stared. "Who??" they echoed.

"What the fuck your _problem,_ man?!" the shrimp shouted as he got close. Even Harold blinked, stupefied.

"Who the hell is he yelling at?" Dick wanted to know, temper flaring.

"Him!" the balding man pushed past, jabbing a finger at Bruce. "He messed up my suit. This Giorgi cost me eight hundred bucks!"

"Oh, now I recognize you." Harold rubbed his chin. "You were bouncing off the floor an hour ago."

"Stick it, tubby. Buck boy here ruined my outfit!"

Bruce glared down at the man. _"So?"_ the Bat. "You want the other arm ripped off that suit?"

The shrimp backed up a little. "You wouldn't dare! I'll call a cop-"

Dick burst out laughing.

"You ain't too pretty to pop, joystick." baldy snorted, turning his way.

"I'm in a good mood tonight." Dick warned. "Lucky for you."

"You don't scare me-"

Bruce stood to his full height, leaning into the shrimp. "Next time, keep your hands to yourself. Or I won't stop with the sleeve."

The man tapped his cracked lenses. "You wouldn't hit a man wearing glasses!"

Razor blues blazed like midnight suns. "I might hit you just for the hell of it."

"I'll sue!"

"I won't pay."

"You attacked me!"

"You grabbed my ass." Bruce hissed. "Now get out of my face, I've had enough crap for one night!"

The man scooted away, mumbling and cursing. Harold and Dick couldn't stop laughing. Even Bruce managed a smug grin.

Dick embraced him loosely. "You're so bad!"

Smouldering eyes narrowed. "I'm just getting started." he licked Dick on the nose.

Harold fanned himself. "Hoo...take it easy. Not unless you feel like more assaults."

"Hmm. You may have a point." Bruce agreed.

Dick practically purred. "Only until we get home. Any assaults occuring there will be completely illegal, I can promise."

"Mmm." Bruce nuzzled, his voice deepening to the Bat. "Arrested? We'll see who gets cuffed-"

"Will you two quit the goo goo stuff?!" Harold pleaded. You're drawin' a crowd again, and my blood pressure can't take it."

They looked up. True to Harold's warning, two men were rapidly approaching. One had dark hair and a moustache, the other shoulder length dreadlocks.

"Hey! You guys wanna party?" the first one shouted, speeding up.

Bruce grabbed Dick by the hand and dragged him away quickly. "No, no, and no again!" he bellowed. Harold skipped behind, waving them off.

"Later, guys!"

The disappointed pair stopped. "Lucky bastard." the black guy mumbled.

()

Their chauffer stood patiently at the car with the door open.

Harold nodded in approval. "Nice. You don't see as many of these in red."

"We always try to do things differently." Dick grinned.

"Are you gentlemen ready to leave?" the chauffer nodded formally, waiting.

Bruce held a hand out. "Give us a minute, Victor."

"As you wish." the man climbed back into the driver seat and closed the door. Bruce turned to his friend.

"I have an idea. Why don't you come with us tonight?"

Harold flushed, fantasies dancing in his head. "Ah...you guys sure? I mean, it's late. I can get home-"

"Take him up on the offer, bud." Dick squeezed a thick shoulder. "All the comforts of home."

Bruce nodded, his voice deepening again. "You'd be most welcome. The manor is huge, we have plenty of room."

Gray eyes flashed. "I don't want you guys to think...well, you know. I said a few things."

A shrug of big shoulders. "I'm 'off' for another day. I promised Dick I'd take a small vacation and just go with the flow."

"Lucky me." Harold was smug. "So gents, the night is young?"

Dick waved at the limo."Our steed awaits."

()

The privacy panel to the limo closed as they pulled off. Harold eased into the soft seating, admiring the wet bar.

"Good deal." he approved, sloshing down raw oysters with hot sauce. Dick peeled shrimp and fed them to Bruce.

"So tell me." Harold reached for the burgundy bottle again. "Why the secrecy about your names? You not officially out, right?"

"No." Bruce mumbled between shrimps.

"Makes sense, really. Especially with the society pages in this town. I've read a lot of their stuff about you. Must get really crazy at times."

"I've been called a street urchin, jail bait and boy toy. The secret bastard parading as ward." Dick rolled his eyes in disgust.

Bruce snorted, patting his chest. "Resident airhead playboy or pedophile, depending on who you ask."

Harold waved it off. "Ah, it's all bull...Dick ain't no kid, and you're hardly old enough to be his father. At least not legally."

Bruce gave a genuine laugh. "It's nice to hear that for a change!"

Dick chuckled. "You're actually making him laugh, Harold. Small miracle!"

"Heh. I can read people, it's a skill."

"Really." Bruce regained his intensity. "Explain how."

Gray eyes were crystal, hard points. "Neither of you are what you pretend. But it's okay. I sensed it the minute I saw you both." he paused. "What I mean is-"

Dick stared at him closely. "You sound like a friend of ours with the...a group."

"I'm not affiliated with any group. Just a buisnessman, as I said."

There was a brief period of quiet. Bruce broke it.

:"Are you a telepath?"

"Ah-"

"Tell me."

"No, not really. More of an empath. I read and sense emotions, feelings. Helps me know when I'm compatible with someone."

"You're a meta." Dick commented, surprised.

Bruce studied the man. "Can you project as well?"

"Sure. Sometimes I send feelings into a specific mind, or radiate an aura of any emotion I choose."

"Amazing." Dick pondered. "Were you trained by anyone?"

"Yeah at an early age. Nasty crowd, though. I escaped them. Maybe one day I'll tell you about it."

Bruce let a slow smile spread. "The night is full of secrets, then."

Harold returned the smile. "You intrigue me too, mister. Like I told Dick at the club, I can be pretty aggressive."

The big man sipped more burgundy from his shot glass. "Rmm. I have many contacts, you know. People who could extend your training."

"No thanks. Somehow I don't see myself in yellow spandex and red cape yelling, _'Yo, I'm FeelGood Man!!' "_

Dick collapsed against Bruce in hysteria. "My eyes!!"

Harold grinned. "Pretty ridiculous mental picture, huh?"

Bruce cracked a half smile. "Maybe nothing as bad as that. I take it your talents have been used at various...occupations?"

Harold nodded, dragging the bottle from Dick. "Let's see...motivational speaker, crowd control, labor negotiations. I even did a brief gig at the suicide prevention hotline center. All my cases came out well."

"Impressive." Dick stated. "I'm glad to hear you've used your powers well."

"Don't kid yourself Dick, I ain't no saint. The people who trained me wanted a killer, someone who would manipulate others. I was really young and lost. Did a lot of stuff that...well, I still have nightmares about."

A large hand rubbed his thigh, warming with heat. "I like you." Bruce rumbled, eyes aglow. "And I don't say that often or to just anyone."

"How do you know I'm not projecting your liking me?"

"Because we've had training in the mental arts also." Dick squeezed his friend's arm. "But more importantly, we trust you. Right, Bruce?"

The dark head tilted. "Yes. Harold has a quality I don't often feel."

()

Conversation flowed again during the long ride across Gotham. Talking soon led to touching, as hands teased along warmed skin and fabric.

"Damn." Harold was flushed. "You two are something...it's not often I get to mingle with the wealthy."

Dick yawned, leaning against Bruce. "Hnn...just like other people, dude."

Harold grinned, rubbing Dick's thigh. "Nice. And definitely not ordinary."

Bruce kissed Dick in the ear, wrapping an arm possessively around his waist. "It's a mellow evening. We rarely get to really relax."

"Whatever happened to lifestyles of the rich and famous?"

Bruce laughed deeply, showing white teeth. "Ah, yes. My doofus playboy without a care in the world routine. Do you like him?"

Harold chuckled himself. "Yeah. Sexiest piece of pasteboard I ever laid eyes on." gray eyes sparkled. "I like the real you even better."

Dick smugly glanced back at his lover. "The real him, huh? Don't even go there, Harold. You might need a shrink."

Harold hiccuped. "Hell, too much burgundy...I'll be grabbing some ass myself soon enough."

Dick stroked the arm that held him, hooded eyes challenging. "Save that for later, red. Just hold the thought."

"You mean...you don't mind if I-?"

"We invited you home."

"I don't want you to think I'm a thrill seeker or social groupie."

Bruce smirked. "You don't seem the groupie type. And I get the impression you've been around all kinds of social circles."

Harold relaxed again. "True. I didn't have any pressing plans for tomorrow morning anyway."

()

They made it to the main entrance of the manor in somewhat wobbly fashion.

Harold stopped several times as his head spun. "Crap. Ray musta spiked that damn burgundy-"

Bruce and Dick staggered against each other. "Does he...do that often?" Dick winced, his own voice seeming too loud.

"Only...when he wants a hot piece of ass. Sets the mood, you know?"

Bruce covered his eyes. "Did the ground get high all of a sudden, or is it just me?"

"It's you." Dick managed, leaning over the iron gate. "Or maybe the earth's opened up."

"I vote for earth." Harold stumbled along. The main entrance doors opened abruptly. An indignant Alfred looked down his nose at the sodden crew.

"I must say Master Bruce, this is a rather undignified entrance."

"Alfred." Bruce tried to nod, settled for a lurch. "Please don't shout. It's been a long night."

Alfred guided them all in. "I'm not shouting, but it seems your ears are ringing."

Dick waved, a silly grin on his face. "Oh hey, hi, Alfred-"

"Master Dick, you're drunk."

"Well, ah-"

"And your friend?" the butler indicated Harold.

"Harold Gordy, my man." Harold attempted to straighten up. "Entrepeneur and greeting card salesman."

Twin dark brows shot up."Yes...I see. Well if you gentlemen will come into the parlour? I'll make a brew."

The three inebriated men stumbled behind Alfred down an ornate hallway.

Dick nudged Harold in the side. "Alfred makes the best coffee in Gotham."

"Kid, at this point I'd drink shoe polish to kill this headache."

()

They sat in the parlour patiently waiting for Alfred's return. Harold took a moment to admire his surroundings.

"Like everything else tonight, pictures don't do justice."

Bruce managed a small grin. "Thank you. I take it you like what you see?"

Harold let his eyes roam. "Oh yeah...and I'm a greedy bastard. The mansion is eye candy, but I'm after the goodies."

Dick laughed. "One ripped shirt and the whole town is tempted."

Bruce glanced down at himself. "A total loss, I'd say. Not that I'm partial to red in any case."

Harold smacked his lips. "We can tear the rest off later."

Hooded blue eyes met the challenge. "You're pretty brazen."

"And I'm just getting started. Wanna know what I want?"

A smirk. "Go ahead."

Harold projected several images laced with his own lust. He sent Dick a few mental flashes for good measure.

Bruce stared, eyes widening. "You have a very...vivid talent for detail."

Dick felt his cheeks redden. "How the hell do you know our...sizes, anyway?"

Harold shrugged, grinning. "A guess, actually. How I think it looks."

"Sure you don't have x-ray vision?"

The redhead sat back in his chair, satisfied with their reaction. "Who do you think I am, Superman?"

"We won't even go there." Bruce mumbled. Dick gave him a dirty look.

Gray eyes sparked. "What? You know him?!"

"Only what I read in the papers."

"You must have a lot of connections with the spandex crowd."

Dick coughed pointedly. "Blue is such a lovely color. Very...relaxing!"

"Dick." Bruce warned.

Harold made a face. "Inside story, huh?"

"One might say." Dick murmured. "Very 'inside'."

Bruce pointed a finger. "Look, I explained that-"

Harold held up both hands. "Guys, please. We're here to enjoy ourselves, not fight over an old boyfriend-"

"He's not a boyfriend!!" Bruce and Dick shouted simultaneously.

Harold smacked his lips. "Riiight...your secret's safe with me."

"And what secret would that be?" another voice interrupted. Alfred entered the room with a silver tray.

"Perfect timing as always, Alfred." Bruce glared at Dick.

Alfred eyed them all suspiciously. "Indeed. In any case, this should help alleviate your distress. Hangovers are such a miserable affair."

"True that." Harold nodded. "So what's in the silver pitcher?"

"My own special mixture." Alfred eyed him with curiosity, pouring. He handed each man a shiny service mug.

Dick stared at the odd liquid. "This isn't coffee. I can't even tell what color it is!"

Alfred stood straight as a rod. "Just drink, Master Dick. Questions can come later."

Bruce frowned at his own cup. "Alfred...what's this slimy yellow lump in the middle?"

"Mine has green stuff floating in it." Harold bunched his nose.

"Everyone's a critic." the Brit sniffed. "Drink up, gentlemen...unless you prefer the alternative in a few hours."

They didn't. Noses were held as three drinks were downed.

"AAkk!!"

"Bluh..."

"Yhkk..."

Alfred held out the tray, suppressing a grin. The cups were returned with loud clatter.

"Get that stuff out of here." Bruce growled, clutching his throat.

Harold smacked his lips, thinking. "Gah. Stuffs worse than prune gin with hot sauce. Tastes like it, too. Sort of."

Dick made a face. "Prune...I thought I tasted more liquor, too!"

Alfred was smug. "Indeed, young Master. Have you ever heard the term, 'hair of the dog?' "

"And have you ever heard the term, _'kidney replacement?!' "_

"It takes awhile for the full effects-"

"Alfred." Bruce barked, interrupting. "While we're recovering from this vile concoction, we'll need accomodations for our guest."

"Of course. Shall I have the blue room prepared?"

Dick groaned. "Again with blue. That seems to be a popular color for discussion tonight!"

"Only because certain people keep carping on it." Bruce said between his teeth.

"Be sweet, boys." Harold interrupted. "Don't ruin a good buzz."

"Ahem" Alfred looked his way. "Mr. ..."

"Gordy. Don't worry Alfie, they've been fussing about Blue for awhile now."

_"Alfie?!"_ the englishman was indignant.

Bruce covered his mouth to keep from laughing. "Don't mind him, Alfred. Just have the room prepared, please."

"Full compliment of fresh linen, I presume?"

"Of course. He's a friend."

With one last glare at Harold, Alfred made his exit. "Dubious, indeed." he murmured.

They watched him leave with mild amusement.

()

"Nice old dude. Kinda stuffy, though." Harold blinked away his double vision. "When does that potion kick in, by the way? I'm still half blind."

Dick kicked off his shoes, sprawling on the sofa. "Is it me or...is it getting hot...in here?" sultry eyes fell on Bruce.

The dark night stared with open lust, rising quickly. "Both. Upstairs, now!"

"Make me." Dick taunted, eyes flashing. He flexed his sock feet.

"I won't say it again." Bruce purred in deep baritone, making his way across.

Harold felt turned on by the voice. "Wow...where's that blue room?"

Bruce flared in his direction. "You too. Up!"

"Hot damn." the redhead staggered to his feet, grinning like a fool. "I'm in heaven!"

()

Alfred had other ideas. After having the guest room prepared he steered Harold to it, breaking up the group.

"What are you doing?!" Harold complained. "Bad enough I drank your cat piss, but-"

"You'll thank me in the morning." Alfred was brusque. "Your room is that way."

Bruce leaned against a bannister with Dick clutching his waist. "Alfred...have you gone insane? He's a guest-"

"I'm saving you from yourselves." Alfred stated simply.

"Hey!!" Harold bellowed. "Last time I checked, everybody was legal here. And no stuck up dude in a penguin suit is gonna order me around."

Dick stifled a laugh, woozy and silly. "Damn, big red...don't tick him off!"

"Well he's ticking _me_ off."

"You 'tick' rather easily-" Alfred began.

"Oh, so mister prim and proper ain't all that!"

_"Quiet!!"_ Bruce bellowed, covering his ears. "My head still spins, and I can't deal with this noise."

Dick giggled again, hopelessly silly from liquor. "Poor baby. Let's go to bed and kiss the pain away."

"I'm all for that!" Harold split a grin, edging their way. Alfred intercepted him again, spinning the large man around.

"The hell?!"

"Your room is prepared, sir." The prim butler resumed a take-charge attitude. "There's fresh linen, bottled water and sandwiches under a covered tray."

Harold glanced helplessly past Alfred. Behind him Bruce and Dick were wrapped around each other. Bruce was smug, hot eyes leering his way in invitation. Dick nuzzled, turning his head towards Harold and winking.

Harold caught the drift. He smiled wanly as Alfred all but shoved him in the opposite direction.

"If you need anything, just use the intercomm. There's a spare robe and pajamas-"

"I'm sure I'll find everything. Thank you." Harold could barely keep the anticipation out of his voice.

Bruce and Dick had already stumbled into their own bedroom.

()

"Oh...oh...yesss. There!"

"Mmmm...more..."

"Haahhhhaiii!!"

"God yes!!"

Harold dabbed a cloth to his forehead, sweating. He'd been listening to the sounds of lovemaking for half an hour.

"More...MOOOORE!!!"

"I want that COCK. Give it to me, give it-"

"AAAaaaa-"

"Oh, g...g...g...!!!"

More banging and thumping sounds, likely the bed. Harold gulped his bottled water, hands shaking.

_Cripes, I can't take this...maybe I should just walk in._

He sat in a plush chair, pulling himself through his guest robe. Green satin fell open just enough as he closed his eyes, thinking.

_What are they doing? No, scratch that, I know..._

"Yesyesyesyes..."

"Oh, god, I'm coming!!"

Harold's eyes snapped open. Loud screams filled his ears even as a vibrating crash shook the floor. Hips jerked involuntarily as precum squirted a clenched fist.

"Oh, man." he moaned, falling back in the chair. "To hell with it...I gotta go in there!"

()

The big redhead walked carefully, minding his aching groin. He pondered briefly at the sudden quiet as he padded through plush and ornate hallways.

A strange thought flitted through his head. _At least that ass tight Brit isn't anywhere around._

He approached paneled oak doors. They were slightly ajar. Harold took that as a sign he was welcome.

Trembling hands pushed through. His mouth fell open at the scene inside. Dick and Bruce were still going at it, albeit at a more measured pace. Arms and legs tangled in a sexual dance, slow twisting of torsos. Glistening golden skin, rakish black hair damp with sweat and soft moans...

Harold licked his lips.

The broad back of Bruce, rippling with each motion, thighs thick and flexing as they held Dick in place. That perfect, fabulous ass clenching as he moved...

Harold licked his fingers.

Dick's beauty and sharp features, slack in bliss. Perfect porportion, all muscle and grace, keening and clutching. Pretty feet with toes curled in sexual tension...

Harold grabbed his crotch.

Bruce glanced over his shoulder, not stopping. "So.." the deep baritone was smug. "What took you so _long?"_

The big redhead was sweating now. "Hell, I was just enjoying the view. You guys made enough noise to bring the mansion down."

Dick curled his tongue, glazed eyes wild underneath as he bucked against Bruce. "Uhhh...so stop...watching and join the party."

Harold's mouth watered as he moved closer to the bed. "Oh _yeah_. And Dick...I was right."

"Mmm...ah...about what?"

Harold dropped his robe. "That ass...is even more fabulous than I thought. And I plan to ride it!"

Bruce spared him another quick glance backward, eyes blazing. "Do it." he hissed, twisting and grinding in a hot display. "Fuck me _hard."_

Harold sweated, looking around. "Oh yeah..."

"Left...drawer" Bruce growled, still working inside Dick.

Wordlessly, Harold lurched to the nightstand and grabbed a tube, slavering his hands with orange scented jelly. Throwing it aside, he straddled Bruce.

"Been thinkin' about this all night. Shit!" he greased the plump ass cheeks, making a sheen. Gripping, massaging the padded muscle in admiration.

"Hurry!" Bruce gasped, picking up speed. Dick growled, biting his ear as thighs wrapped around.

Harold raked broad fingertips against the slick bodies under him, panting. Tickle of ribs, strokes down Bruce's broad back. Pushing against that gorgeous ass, shoving him down harder into Dick.

Dick stared up, mouth open and eyes glowing. Panting.

Bruce grunted and arched as thick fingers scraped his crack, pushing insistently. The big redhead reared down, tasting him in that musky place as tongue coiled and teased. Ever so deep. He moaned next, twisting and snapping hips. Harold couldn't wait any longer. His own weeping cock dripped down the lush ass, juicing his destination. In one long, sweet slide he was in.

_"Jesus-"_ gray eyes rolled wildly as he gripped the powerful hips underneath and pushed.

Bruce gave a shout, grimacing in sweet agony. Harold was merciless, pummelling the big man until his ass quivered.

Bruce hissed, face twisted in pleasure. _"Harder!!"_

"God...so tight!!" Harold pumped in frenzy, corded muscles in his neck straining as sweat popped everywhere.

Dick moaned as several hundred pounds of flesh ground him into the mattress. He was close again, wetness seeping over his belly. A scream was muffled when Bruce stuffed his mouth with tongue.

The huge bed creaked and groaned horribly from the triple assault. Dick's head banged against the headboard repeatedly from the force of Bruce's thrusts. Bruce in turn alternated screams and grunts, perfect white teeth a mask of pleasure, giving and taking both.

Throbbing, pulsating flesh cried for release. Hands clutching, slick skin hot and sensitive everywhere.

Dick was breathless, heat and musk robbing his senses, filling his nostrils with wild sex. Aching and straining...

Bruce howled like a fool, back and belly on fire. Pure strength crashed into Dick and hurled Harold up, bouncing...

Harold dove into sweet heat, gripping rippling muscle and smooth skin. Teeth and tongue tasting, biting. Riding high on a wild bronco and loving it...

It was too much. Pulse and ecstacy exploded in a warm and sticky flood. Sweat slickened bodies seized, trembled, and collapsed in an exhausted heap.

Dick lay bonelessly underneath, still gasping like a beached fish. Lines and spots danced across his vision. Bruce sprawled over him like an electrocuted scarecrow, desperately sucking air into his lungs. Harold slid to the floor, face buried against Bruce's ass. He smiled and took a happy lick, brain buzzing.

"Now...this...is what...I call..._sweetcakes."_

()

Dick felt his eyeballs explode. Moaning, he pressed both palms against the swollen orbs. Dawn peeked through small cracks in heavy curtains, dusky in hues of purple and orange. Blinking, he stared down. The bed was a reeking mess, sheets tangled and hopelessly sticky. Several wet spots gave testimony to the night's wild activity.

A familiar body lay across his. Bruce was on his back, mouth gaped open. He looked like a gunshot victim.

Dick snickered but stopped when his head throbbed. Something poked him from behind. Edging to his side he felt Harold's nose against his ribs, snoring. The big redhead was partly underneath Bruce. Red hair was loose and splayed over his arm.

Dick krinkled his nose. _Cripes._

A strange snuckling noise as Bruce frowned in sleep, closing his mouth. Blinked. Opened eyes slowly.

"Uh..."

"Morning, lover." Dick managed a half smile. Bruce didn't bother to lift his head.

"What...time?" the handsome faced winced.

Dick pointed a wobbly hand to the window. "Morning, that's all I know."

Bruce covered his face with a broad hand. "Must've blacked out..."

"We all did."

"We?"

"Are you forgetting our guest?" Dick nodded at red hair wrapping his arm.

Bruce barely lifted his head now. "Oh...Harold."

"That's me." a heavy voice murmured from under Dick.

Blade blue eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

Harold peeked through the crook in Dick's arm. "You're kidding, right? What _didn't _happen!"

"I mean...yeah, I know, but-" the dark head dropped as Bruce held his head between elbows.

Harold sat up behind Dick, grinning happily. "Is he always like this the morning after?"

Dick rubbed his eyes again. "Shit. Who spun the bed around?"

"Nobody, kid. You didn't answer my question."

"What was the question?"

Harold snuffed against his neck. "Sheesh. You really _are_ wasted."

Dick kept blinking stupidly. "Yeah, well, ah-"

Harold grinned, glancing down at Bruce. "Hey, buck boy. Lookin' good!"

Bruce gaped, looking completely strung out. "You aren't hung over?"

"Nah. Remember? It's an advantage to be a 'feelgood' power. Can't be really depressed, can't brood. Got endomorphins out the wazoo."

"Could you give me some?"

Dick stared in shock. "Bruce!!"

Bruce rolled to his side, shaking his head to clear it. "You want to stay in bed hung over all day? I'm being practical here-"

"So romantic." Harold teased, batting his eyes. "And so sexy. How can I refuse, sugar?" an affected lisp.

High cheekbones flushed, but Bruce managed a grin. "Silly."

Harold crooked a finger. "Lean up and gimme a kiss."

Eyebrows shot up. "A _kiss?"_

"Trust me." Wicked.

Dick stared at them both. "I'm checking for pods. This is the weirdest pillow talk I've ever heard."

"I'm a man of my word." Bruce leaned up. Harold pulled him forward, planting him a good one.

A _very_ good one. It lasted nearly a minute until both men were gasping for air.

Dick felt left out. "Hey!"

"I'll get to you in a minute, cutie." Harold winked. He turned to Bruce again.

"How do you feel?"

The dark knight blinked in surpise, eyes showing clarity. "I...feel great!"

"See?"

"And calm. I'm usually agitated first thing."

Thick fingers stroked rakish black hair. "Told you."

Bruce smiled brilliantly now. "I must admit you're...very good. And very talented."

Harold leaned back, chest flexing. "I aim to please."

"Then please help me." Dick wailed, rubbing his head. "I may have a concussion here."

Harold puckered up. "Poor baby. Let sugar bear make it all better."

Bruce grimaced. "Ugh. Just kiss him already!"

Harold complied eagerly, clutching the young man in a fierce embrace. He nearly tilted Dick off the bed, kissing.

Bruce couldn't believe his eyes. "Excuse me?"

With a loud smack Harold pulled free, smirking. "All done."

Dick lay flat, eyes wide and glazed. "Wow!!"

"Dick?"

"I feel like I'm high."

Bruce had to admit he did, too. Eyes sparkled like sapphires at their new friend.

"Greeting card salesman, huh?"

"Only the best, for people I like." Harold winked with mischief.

"Would you like to join the...fraternity?"

The redhead stopped smiling. "Ah...some kinky sex group?"

Dick burst out laughing. "Oh brother!"

Bruce strained to keep a straight face. "Well, I suppose some people might think so. They're into capes."

"Capes?" Harold looked at him in horror. "Uh...a cult? Hell, I've heard about weird stuff rich people do. You guys sacrifice dogs or something?"

Dick couldn't stop laughing. "Is all your information so terrible?!"

"But I-"

Bruce rolled his eyes."I'm talking about the other kind of 'Capes.' "

Harold tilted his head a bit. "Wait...you mean like the spandex people? JLA and the like?"

"Yes. And others. I have connections-"

Harold held up a hand. "Thanks but no. Too much grief, and you don't have a life. I'll stick to hiding my light under a bushel."

"Suit yourself."

"I'd rather talk about last night." the redhead leered at Bruce.

"Are you always this cheery so early?"

Harold popped up from the bed, showing his not-bad physique. He threw open the curtains, flooding the room with sunlight.

"GAAHHH!!"

Bruce and Dick covered their heads under the sheets. Harold leaned against the wall, shaking his head.

"Great. I'm sleeping with vampires!"

()

They talked for another hour before Bruce realized he had a staff meeting. Dick and Harold remained between the sheets.

"I really like you." Dick smiled, teasing thick nipples with his fingers.

A kiss in his ear. "You're so pretty." Harold murmured. "Maybe I'll have time to taste you all over."

Dick arched, closing his eyes. "You sound like Bruce."

"Speak of the devil." Harold watched Bruce enter the room. He was exquisitely tailored in a burgundy suit with thin white piping. Austere golden cufflinks set off the look over wine red shoes. Jet black hair neatly combed over neon blue eyes.

He looked fabulous.

"Good googa mooga." Harold admired the view. "Now that's a sight. Come here, sexy. I wanna bite the big one!"

Bruce nearly split a grin. "I meet with your requirements, then?"

"Oh, I almost forgot. You're wearing the 'suit.' "

An even wider grin. "We're going to be great friends, Harold."

The big redhead wiggled his toes as he held Dick in bed. "Good. Maybe when you get back I can strip the suit. Then we can talk dirty."

"I like the way he thinks." Dick was smug.

"I'll even issue a challenge." Grey eyes flashed with a weird light. "I'm gonna bust you, make you come so hard you'll forget everything. And then I'm gonna mount you like a bitch and do it again."

Bruce breathed deeply, mouth slightly open. Dick watched the arousal rise in his lover, despite the suit. There would be hell to pay.

Bruce curled his tongue, eyes darkening to near black. In a sudden burst he approached the bed.

"See you later, Dick." he kissed deeply.

Harold watched with great interest, licking his lips. Bruce turned to him next, a dangerous look on his face.

"And you." the Bat responded, answering the challenge. Tongue pushed inside Harold's mouth, hot and demanding.

"MMmmmm!!"

He pulled free with a smack. "I accept your challenge."

Harold gasped, lips wet. "Hell _yeah."_

With a smug and satisfied look, Bruce turned on his heel and left. Harold heaved breathlessly, watching him go.

Dick slid down in the bed, smiling. "You have no idea what you're in for."

Harold scratched his chest, grinning like an idiot. "Juicy plums."

Teeth sunk in his ear. "You've got a serious ass fetish." Dick murmured. "Pervy."

The big redhead smacked his tongue in satisfaction. "Call it a weakness."

THE END


End file.
